So Long, My Luckless Romance
by OuEstLaCraie
Summary: Nick begins to think the universe hates him because nothing good ever came of his hopeless dream, and nothing ever works out right in his luckless romance. Snickers. Companion to Goodbye My Almost Lover and Goodbye My Hopeless Dream but stands on its own.


**_Author's Note: Whoop, third story! Yes, this is a companion to "Goodbye, My Almost Lover" and "Goodbye, My Hopeless Dream"...and yes, there will be one more story. I know you're all very excited for that : ) Anywho, I hope you enjoy, and please review! Oh, and I warn you...this is kind of sad. And short (sorry). But I promise, the next (and _that_ one will be the last) story will make up for it. I think. Honestly, I don't know, because I haven't written it yet; I just have some ideas for it floating around in my noggin...but you don't care. So read, review, and enjoy!!_**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Unfortunately. : (**

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The drive to her apartment should have taken fifteen minutes at this hour of the morning, twenty minutes tops. Intent on working up his nerve, he managed to stretch it to thirty. Meanwhile, the sun began its ascent from behind the horizon into the blue-gray, early morning sky, shedding light on the unusually quiet Sin City, a rude awakening to those sleeping off hangovers, or beginning to remember just what had happened the night before. 

He pulled his car to the curb across the street from her building, cut the engine, and sat, searching the front facade for her window, looking for a light on in her apartment, a beacon of hope in the early morning half-light.

He found it, smiled slightly, eyes glued to the glass. If only she would walk by, if only he could see her just once, just once before he divulged his true feelings. If only he could lay eyes on her, remember her as she was at that moment, the single moment where all was blissful ignorance, the moment before she decided their fate. The moment before she either leapt into his arms like in one of those cheesy romantic movies, kissing him and murmuring how she'd felt the same way for oh so long...or broke his heart, _shattered_ it, into a million minuscule pieces that he knew would never be able to mend themselves, not after being destroyed so totally and completely.

He watched the window for two and a half minutes that seemed like an eternity, waiting for a glimpse of her, waiting for his moment, waiting for his waning confidence to build itself up again. And then the light abruptly went out, plunging the square into darkness. Someone moved past the window, shut it, their face in shadow, but he knew in his heart it was her. He also knew that if he didn't get off his yellow-bellied, lilly-livered ass soon, she'd come down the stairs, exit the apartment building, get in her car, and drive away without looking back. He would lose his opportunity. He couldn't let that happen.

He undid his seatbelt, let it slide across his chest to come to rest just above his shoulder. He unlocked the door. Sat up straight. Sighed. Took a deep breath. Coaxed his confidence back. Put a hand on the door.

She appeared, stepping out the building, glancing behind her, holding the door open for someone. A neighbor, maybe, some elderly man with bad arthritis, or a middle aged-woman weighed down by one huge purse and three small children.

It was an older man. A very _familiar_ older man. But not a neighbor, no. Maybe because the universe hated Nick Stokes, liked laughing at his failure and relishing in his pain far too much, maybe because he was just extremely unlucky, or cursed, or enchanted in some way, or maybe for reasons beyond his comprehension, the man who followed Sara out of the apartment building, the man who smiled slightly and said something to her that made her laugh and touched her cheek gently in a show of affection that was like a dagger in Nick's heart, was his boss. Their boss. Gil "the Bugman" Grissom.

Gil "the Hopes and Dreams Killer" Grissom was more like it. As Nick watched, he leaned over to Sara, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then moved off down the block, in search of his car. She, in turn, smiled after him, standing on the stoop to watch him walk off, before trotting down the steps, unlocking her car, and pulling open the door. Maybe feeling his eyes on her, she glanced up to survey the scenery, eyes sweeping over Nick's car, stopping on it, raising an eyebrow in silent puzzlement, while Nick hurried to turn his face away before their eyes could meet, clicked the seatbelt into place, and turned the key in the ignition. If he could drive away now, if she didn't feel the need to come over and chat, if for once the universe would pity him and let him escape to wallow in his humiliation and to nurse his broken heart in the sanctity of his own home, he'd be okay. If he didn't have to lay eyes on her for a few more hours, didn't have to talk to her for a day or two, didn't have to put up the "everything's hunky-dory" facade just yet, he'd be just fine. If he could just get a chance to regroup, rethink his course of action, put another plan into play, he'd be able to get through this.

He felt broken and battered inside, but otherwise, he was perfectly fine, right? Completely healthy. No broken bones, no bacteria coursing through his bloodstream, no nausea or fainting or headaches. Not even a bad case of heartburn. Yeah, everything was peachy keen...except for that damn broken heart of his. Now _that_ was going to pose a problem.

_Goodbye, my almost lover, _

_Goodbye, my hopeless dream. _

_I'm trying not to think about you. _

_Can't you just let me be? _

_So long, my luckless romance, _

_My back is turned on you. _

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache, _

_Almost lovers always do._

_--"Almost Lover," A Fine Frenzy_


End file.
